


Back Where You Belong

by c0cunt



Series: JeanConnie week 2015 [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, JeanConnie week, M/M, i know that's such a strange tag coming from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:18:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5416739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0cunt/pseuds/c0cunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean hasn't been heard from for almost four years.  Connie is still hung up over how he just...Disappeared, without a word to him.  They were best friends, weren't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! Welcome to JeanConnie week 2015!  
> This particular work is going to contain days 1/2/3/5, while the other three days will be separate one shots.  
> 

Connie sighed loudly as he reread the last conversation he and Jean had texted.  It had been almost four years since their last conversation (where Connie had sent several pictures of his dog sniffing his butt, and had asked when Jean would be coming home for summer break), and with it nearing Jean's birthday once again, Connie couldn't help but feel bitter about the silence.  He didn't even know if Jean was still alive at this point.  Jean had posted on Facebook that he would be spending the summer with his new boyfriend, and then less than a week after that all of his accounts were closed.  Then Mama K had called Connie asking if he had heard anything from Jean.  They were supposed to be best friends, but Connie heard absolutely nothing for four years now...

 

"If you sigh any louder, we're gonna get noise complaints again."  Sasha snarked at him from the kitchen.  If it wasn't so close to Jean's birthday, Connie would've snarked right back at her about the noise she always made bopping around in the kitchen.  Connie just sighed again and dropped his phone onto the couch, throwing a pillow over his head.  

 

Sasha poked her head around the corner, not really wanting to take her eyes off the cake in the oven, knowing exactly why Connie was in such a poor mood.  You can't live with someone for three years and not learn a lot about them, and Sasha knew there wasn't exactly any way to cheer the Conman up over this.  She kind of  wanted to punch this Jean person in the face for just up and disappearing.  It wouldn't help any of them, but it'd make her feel better knowing that he had gotten a small bit of justice for abandoning his (supposed) best friend, who was now also her best friend.  The way that Connie talked about him made Sasha more than a bit curious, especially after seeing Connie's face soften ever so slightly when he was going through old photos of the pair on his phone.  

 

Deciding that the cake could be left unwatched for a bit, Sasha joined Connie on their couch, lifting Connie's head onto her lap.  When Connie just sighed again, she hummed slightly and scratched at the top of his head lightly.  Even under the pillow, he could smell the chocolate cake, and while he was thankful that Sasha was making a cake for someone who may not even be alive, he couldn't help but feel bad about causing the extra work for her.  Plus, she had said the first time she made it last year, Devil's food cake was her favorite, even if the raspberry filling wasn't to her taste.  But no food or cake would be wasted in their apartment, even if it wasn't to Sasha's taste.

 

"If he came back, would you forgive him?" She asked quietly, sliding his head off her lap.  Connie moved the pillow off of his face, turning the pillow over in his hands as he thought over her question.  As he opened his mouth to respond, the timer went off in the kitchen, and Sasha was on her feet in a second, not wanting the cake to burn.  Crinkling his nose slightly, Connie rolled off the couch and slowly followed her.  

 

He couldn’t help but feel grateful to Sasha, for putting up with his stupidity.  His stupidity about Jean, and their friends’ stupidity about the pair of them.  Just because they shared an apartment didn’t mean they had to date or be anything more than friends.  Sasha only seemed to ever laugh at all the comments about how they should just ‘get together already’, which made Connie so relieved:  While he was definitely bi, Sash was definitely not up to anything romantic.  She had told him right from the get-go that romance just plain wasn’t her thing, and it made everyone else’s suggestions a bit more annoying, but also slightly funnier.

 

While she fussed around with the cake and the raspberry filling, Connie sank down into one of their mismatched kitchen chairs and tried not to think about Jean.  Which he was failing at spectacularly.  It’d probably be easier to forget about someone when not smelling their favorite cake, Connie reasoned with himself, even as he eagerly leaned closer to the fresh cake.  It smelled of comfort and late night conversations, of his first kiss and playing video games until dawn together.  It smelled like home, even if there wasn’t a home to return to anymore.  (Mama K had invited Connie to come visit any time, and he still went to visit once a week, but it felt strange to not head straight up to Jean’s room when he was there.)  He felt his mouth morph into the smile he reserved for Jean alone, as Sasha plunked down a slice of cake in front of him.  

 

“I think I would,” Connie began answering her earlier question, frowning slightly as he mindlessly stabbed at the cake, “forgive him, y’know.”  Sasha tilted her head, waiting for him to continue with his reasoning.  “Like, he has to have a good reason for just up and leaving like that, yeah?”  Connie grumbled, stabbing at the cake with much more vigor than before.  Jean must have had a good reason, to not even tell me where he was going, Connie thought bitterly.  They were best friends, maybe more than best friends, and best friends (plus more) tell each other what’s going on with them, right?

Right.


	2. Long Time No See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie's at work when he gets a surprise visitor

Connie really hated working at Little Titan Cafe.  He could fake being friendly to strangers like a pro easily, but it was really draining to have to stand there all day and mix up bizarre drinks that the owner decided would be the day's special.  But, money was money, and the tips weren't too terrible.  The most annoying part of it all was being his coworker's go-to guy to cover when he was sick (which was frequently; apparently Bertholdt had an immune system issue, that especially didn’t work well in springtime).  Which is how Connie ended up working on his birthday this year.  It was crummy, but at least he could look forward to another one of Sasha's cakes when he went home tonight.

 

Fortunately it wasn't a busy day, so Connie could stop and think about what kind of cake Sasha would be making.  Of course he was hoping for a plain yellow cake with her chocolate ganache frosting, but knowing her, she would try to make something fancy for his 23rd birthday.  It was an argument the pair had had for the past two years, when she discovered that his favorite cake was just plain yellow.  “C’mon, live a little, Conman!” had been her response to him saying that simple cakes were the best sorts.  Leaning against the counter, Connie couldn’t help a little laugh at her reasoning.  The monstrosity of a cake that she had made last year only solidified his deep affection for plain yellow cake (seriously, what made Sasha think that red velvet cheesecake with a mango filling would suddenly become his new favorite?  He didn’t even particularly like mangos to begin with!).  The large set of jingling bells hanging over the front door rang loudly, and Connie jumped slightly.

 

“Welcome to Little Titan Cafe, how may I help you?”  The words were out of his mouth before he had stood up properly, dusting off his already clean apron.  The words almost echoed around the near-empty shop (the only person there aside from himself was his friend Annie, who was curled up in a corner with her headphones on), and Connie blinked several times to get his eyes to focus on the new customer.  Today was probably the worst day to forget his contacts, but even without being able to see properly, Connie’s stomach twisted violently when he recognized the man in front of him, stupid haircut and all.  Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Connie forced the smile to stay on his face, wishing the earth would swallow him right in this instant.

 

Jean Kirschstein stood just inside the door, like a deer in headlights, probably debating on if he should just turn around and make a run for it.  Even though he was basically blind from lack of glasses, Connie couldn’t help noticing just how...Terrible Jean looked, quite frankly.  While he was mostly a fuzzy outline from where Connie stood, he could see the dark purple smudges under Jean’s eyes, as well as how ragged his oversized flannel shirt and jeans looked.  As Connie stared at him in silence, Jean gingerly toed his way over to the counter, the faintest ghost of a smile trying to tug his lips up.  

 

Up close, Jean looked even worse than his vague shape had suggested to Connie.  Obvious stubble crept over his chin, his eyes nearly swallowed up by the dark bruises around them.  His cheekbones protruded slightly more than they used to, and his ashy brown hair was now very obviously brittle.  Were those..Bruises around Jean’s throat?  Holy fuck, it looked like bruising.  This wasn’t the Jean that Connie remembered, the Jean that strutted around like a peacock when surrounded by strangers.  He looked sick and tired, and all Connie wanted to do was lend him a pillow to sleep on, even as he felt anger and confusion bubbling underneath all the protectiveness he was feeling.

 

“Hey Connie,” Jean said, voice cracking slightly on his name, and he wanted to be able to forgive Jean immediately for the past four years.  He wanted to tell Jean that everything would be fine, and that everything could go back to how it was four years ago.  But he couldn’t.

 

“Where have you been?”  Connie snapped when he found his voice.  Jean flinched at the sharp tone, and Connie mentally apologized to him, even if he wouldn’t do so out loud just yet.  It all felt surreal, honestly, seeing Jean appear at his work.  Like any second his alarm was going to go off, and he would be waking up on his 23rd birthday, and not have Bert text him three hours later to cover for him.  Just in case, Connie surreptitiously pinched his arm, just to make sure that yep, he was definitely awake, and now his arm hurt too.  Jean seemed to be steeling himself up to answer Connie’s question, but before he could, the bells on the door jangled loudly, and a large group of people (probably high school kids by the looks of them) came in, chattering like a group of monkeys.

 

“Erm, maybe now isn’t the best time…” Jean mumbled, eyeing the crowd nervously.  Connie wanted to protest, but this wasn’t the time to be having a deep conversation.  Without thinking, Connie snapped up a piece of receipt paper and scribbled his address onto it.

“Come over later for cake, yeah?  I get out at 10 tonight,” He felt a blush starting to creep up his cheeks, averting his eyes as he shoved the little scrap into Jean’s hands.  Jean’s eyes widened as he stepped aside, possibly reading the little date that was printed at the top of the paper, allowing for the other customers to step up and start ordering.

 

“Shit, it’s your birthday isn’t it?  Can’t believe I forgot…” Jean mumbled, as he slowly turned away from the counter.  Connie was quickly swamped with coffee demands, losing track of Jean completely.  He quickly shot off a text to Sash, saying they might be having a visitor join them later that night.  More customers seemed to appear from the woodwork, and soon Connie had almost entirely forgotten about his sudden visitor, even if seeing him once more after so long had almost left a sour taste in his mouth.

 


	3. Confessions and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The same visitor took Connie up on his offer, and answers some questions...But he leaves very suddenly

Connie was anxious to get off of work, so when Moblit told him to go home early, he was basically out the door in half a second (he almost forgot to shout a quick ‘thank you’ to Moblit, but he caught himself).  His old turtle backpack, dirty from being used for so many years, was slung haphazardly over his shoulder, his work apron slightly sticking out of the mostly-zippered back.  It was only 8pm, and Connie knew that if he were to go straight back to his apartment that he’d be fidgeting with everything for the next two hours and watching the clock hopefully.  

 

So he took the long way home, ignoring Sasha’s concerned texts as it grew later and later.  Without really thinking of it, Connie ended up walking by places that were near and dear to his heart, places that he had shared with Jean. The abandoned lot behind Connie’s parent’s place.  The high school they had both attended.  The ice cream parlor where they had gone on one of their very few dates.  Memories were nipping at his heels, even as Connie’s pace picked up, and finally began directing himself home.  By 9:49pm, Connie’s stomach was tangled into more knots than Sasha’s hair after two weeks without brushing (she had to get her hair mostly shaved off by that point, and had decided to keep it short ever since), but he was back at his building.

 

Stairs are definitely evil, Connie’s feet determined, aching after a long day and all the extra walking he had done after work.  Stupid building, not having an elevator; probably part of the reason why rent was so cheap, even though the building manager had sent around a notice that the prices would be increased a little bit to afford putting in an elevator.  Ah well, that was something for the future that Connie was definitely looking forward to.  Three floors up, halfway down the hall, door on the left with peeling purple paint.  Just as Connie was about to flop mercilessly against said door, he heard voices inside.  One was definitely Sasha’s, sharp and unyielding, but the other...Soft and weak, butterfly wings against a hurricane.  Connie recognized that voice immediately, but instead of logically going inside, he pressed his ear against the door and listened to their hushed conversation.

 

“So, why did you disappear?” Sasha’s voice cracked like a whip.  Connie cringed in sympathy, knowing the terrifying look she must have on her face right now.  Possibly even giving her dead eyed look, a look that said plainly that she wouldn’t put too much thought into just snapping your neck for answering her in an unsatisfactory way.  Jean spluttered on the other side of the door for a second, and Connie could’ve sworn he heard a whimpering noise.

 

“It’s...It’s complicated,” he mumbled.  Connie couldn’t imagine how this Jean would act (the Jean he remembered wouldn’t show weakness so easily, especially not to someone he had just met), but whatever was happening behind the door just caused Sasha to sigh.  Not for the first time, Connie wished for spontaneously developing the ability to see through walls at will.  

“Hey…” Sasha’s voice was gentle now, and Connie could’ve sworn he heard the smallest of sobs.  Connie dug his key out of his pocket, and shoved his way through the door, worrying about what could have possibly made Jean begin to cry.  Not really caring, he shoved the door shut behind him and let his backpack fall, taking in the scene in front of him.

 

Jean had curled in on himself (suspiciously wiping harshly at his face) where he sat on their couch, with Sasha cautiously handing him tissues.  Both of them looked up when they heard Connie enter, Jean swiping even more harshly at his face.  Connie adverted his eyes from Jean, landing on a small plain bakery box on the coffee table, red striped string tied into a neat bow.  Cautiously, Connie moved towards them, taking Sasha’s spot as she disappeared into the kitchen.  The smell of baking cake had filled the air, while Jean was still sniffling slightly.

 

“Dude, could’ve warned me about the girlfriend,” Jean joked quietly.  “She’s not my girlfriend” was Connie’s automated response, reaching out on autopilot in an attempt to wipe Jean’s nose like when they were younger.  Jean flinched, but tried to hold still, even as Connie froze and leaned back, shoving the tissue into Jean’s empty hand.  That definitely wasn’t a response that Connie ever imagined happening.  Obviously, something...Bad had happened to Jean in these four years, for him to react like this.

 

“Jean,” Connie started quietly, scooping up the used tissues and tossing them away quickly, “what happened to you?  Where have you been?”  Instead of answering right away, Jean sighed and fiddled with the frayed edges of his jeans, eyes darting around as if looking for a large flashing exit sign.  When no such sign popped up, he laughed quietly to himself as he met Connie’s eyes.

 

“Obviously I fucked up,” he laughed, shaking his head as a sour look crawled up onto his face.  Connie just blinked, waiting for him to continue.  “I, uh…” Jean ran a hand through his hair, chewing at his lip for half a second, “I kinda failed all my classes that first year.  I think by the time I dropped I had around a 1.0 or some shit.  I couldn’t face Maman after failing that fucking badly, and my-” Jean’s face screwed up as he spat out the next word “boyfriend, he offered me a place to stay.”  Jean fell silent for a second, Connie’s eyes wider than a dinner plate.  He did remember Jean saying he wasn’t doing so hot in classes, but he didn’t think that Jean could’ve ever failed that badly.

 

“He, uh…” Jean hesitated, before shaking his head, “I let things get bad.  I know I should’ve at least called, but fuck man, how do I tell everyone that I went off to college and fucking flunked out?”  Another laugh from Jean, a sound more hopeless than Connie ever thought a laugh could sound, carefully reaching out for Jean’s hand (he startles slightly at the contact, but Connie deems it a victory as he curls their hands together).  

 

“I’ll spare you the shitty details,” Jean continued quietly, still staring at Connie’s hand in his, “but I left a few...Months ago, and worked my way back here.  I...I should’ve gone straight home to Maman, apologized, but I couldn’t just yet.  I have twenty bucks to my name, and these ratty-ass clothes, and that’s it.”  Both boys jump at the sound of the timer going off in the kitchen, Jean tightening his hold on Connie’s hand, as if to say ‘please don’t go yet’.  Connie squeezed back gently, and both of them listened to Sasha bustling around in the kitchen.  Silence reigns between them for a second, Sasha's moving around seeming to grow even louder, and Connie vaguely wondered about noise complaints again.

 

“I found your job by accident,” Jean whispers, voice almost drowned out by the clanking that’s now started up in the kitchen.  Connie had to scoot closer to hear him as he continued, “I was looking to see what's changed, and what's stayed the same.  Then I saw you behind the counter, and...I had to see you, up close.”  Jean shook his head, smiling softly as he met Connie’s eyes finally.  Both of them are silent again, and even the sounds of Sasha clanging around in the kitchen sort of fall into being background noise.  It’s only at the sound of Sasha clearing her throat as she returns from the kitchen with two very large slices of cake, that the pair even remember that they had been talking.

 

“What monstrosity did you make this year?”  Connie teased, even as he reached out to take both plates from her.  “Lemon orange marble cake with banana cream filling,” Sash said with a shrug as she turned back to the kitchen, “You two enjoy, I’m going to bed,” she added.  Connie knew that this was her way of giving them both a bit of privacy, and knew that he would owe her big time in the future for this.  He hoped he could silently convey that he knew this, as he cautiously poked his fork at the cake concoction that was in front of him.  Jean looked absolutely offended by the combination, wrinkling his nose at it before taking the tiniest of cautious bites.  Still silent, both boys picked at their plates, until Connie couldn’t stand the silence any more.

 

“She, uh, has this thing, since she found out what my favorite cake was, that she’d make a new thing every year until she found something different I liked,” he mumbled, if only to have something to say.  Jean nodded vaguely as he put his plate down, and shoved the tiny bakery box in Connie’s direction.

“Got you a birthday gift,” he said in the tiniest voice Connie had ever heard him use before.  “I...I should probably go,” he added, hopping to his feet before Connie could even respond.  In less than a blink of an eye, Jean was already over by the front door, with a hasty “hope you like it” tossed over his shoulder.  Even as Connie scrambled over to the door, wanting to beg for Jean to stay on the tip of his tongue, he knew that the hall would be empty by the time he’d opened the door.  

 

Disappointment curled in his chest when he poked his head out and was proven right; he couldn’t help but wonder exactly what it was that Jean had gotten him, and exactly why it had caused Jean to want to run the second it was closer to him.  Connie dragged his feet as he made his way back to the couch, and he almost felt like crying as he sat himself down in the small indent the couch had formed around where Jean had been seated.  For several minutes he just sat there, staring down the little bakery box, asking it to spill its secrets without wanting to unwrap it.  When the box remained silent, secrets distinctly unspilled, Connie heaved a heavy sigh as he dragged it closer to him to untie.  The red and white string fell away easily as Connie tugged at it, and he impatiently flipped the lid.

  
  


A single yellow cake slice with chocolate frosting, accompanied by a scrap of paper with a phone number scrawled almost illegibly across the top, greeted Connie’s impatient box opening.  At least he’d be getting a slice of his favorite cake on his birthday this year.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jean fucking knows he's a goddamn liar, he didn't leave "a few months" ago.


	4. Got Your Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's been back for a year, and Connie's over the moon about that.

It had been almost a year since Jean had popped back into Connie’s life, and Connie couldn’t have been happier.  After the sudden re-disappearance of a few days after a mildly successful night of cake and conversation, it had almost felt too good to be true.  Even now, as Connie walked over to Mama K’s house after an early shift at the cafe, it almost felt like a dream.  Jean was back to living at home, and it had taken almost a full month before Mama K even allowed Jean to step outside, fearing that he would take off and disappear once more.  While no more could be pried about what had happened in those four missing years, Connie recognized Jean had a few more...Quirks than he had left with.

 

Jean seemed to have completely lost any ability to hide his anxieties since he had returned.  Connie had noticed it that night, but as he spent more and more time with Jean, it became rather obvious.  After a disastrous night out (to celebrate Jean coming home) that had ended rather quickly with a very terrifying panic attack, it finally really clicked that this really wasn’t the Jean that had left four years ago.  He was different, and Connie was different in different ways too, but they would have to adjust to this.  While several of their old mutual friends laughed and joked about making new accommodations for Jean, it came naturally to Connie.  (At the same time, Connie distanced both of them from those friends that made those jokes; neither of them needed that sort of bullshit in their lives.)

 

As Connie bounced up the steps to the Kirschstein house, he couldn’t hide how happy he was.  It almost felt like being back in high school, rushing to go hang out with Jean after he’d stayed after for detention or one of the few times he had thought joining a sport at the beginning of the year would be worth it.  It was weird for him to still feel exactly the same as he had back then, nervous butterflies still fluttering around in his chest as he let himself into the Kirschstein home.  Connie called out a quick hello to Mama K in her office, before hurrying off to Jean’s room; straight up the stairs, first door on the left, no need to even knock.

 

 

Jean’s room hadn’t changed much in all the time that Connie had known him, so it had been strange to help Jean completely overhaul it.  The formerly sky blue walls were now a darker shade, with some old photos that Jean had unearthed from a photo album taped just above the new-to-him desk.  The one thing that hadn’t changed at all was Jean sprawled out across his bed like a starfish as he napped, complete with drool and slight snoring.  Connie couldn’t hold back a slight laugh as he threw himself onto the edge of the bed, narrowly avoiding smushing Jean’s foot.  Jean barely twitched at all, and Connie couldn’t resist tickling the bottom of his feet, even though he knew he’d be sent flying in about half a second.  He wasn’t proven wrong, letting out a loud squeal as he toppled off the bed.  

 

Jean let out a snort as he slowly pushed himself up, sleepy eyes shining with mirth, as Connie clambered back up onto the bed.  “What an asshole,” Connie whined, kicking at Jean’s ankles, even as he attempted to hide a smile.  Jean kicked back lazily, yawning as he finally rolled into a sitting position and shoved a pillow behind his head.  Soon enough, both of them were relaxing, legs tangled together (for optimal little kicking fights that were serious in absolutely no way) as they just...Talked.  Well, Connie made lame puns at random intervals, and was promptly shoved off the bed for each of them, with Jean always reaching down to help him back into the bed.  But as they whiled away the hours just talking, Connie noticed that Jean was smiling a bit less, staring off into space a bit more, but he only became truly concerned when Jean didn’t even shove him a tiny bit for a pun.  Obviously, Jean was thinking about something too hard, or was thinking of how to share something that he wasn’t sure about yet.  Either way, Connie was going to know what it was.

 

“Hey, man, is there something up?  You’re getting all spacey,”  Connie asked, tilting his head to the side as he twisted around to face Jean completely.  Jean just shrank in on himself, not meeting Connie’s gaze at all as he mumbled that there was nothing wrong.  Not wanting to make Jean uncomfortable, Connie shrugged and went on to telling another story about how oblivious Bertholdt was when it came to a certain blond customer that came in specifically to flirt with him.  As Connie let his story trail off when it became obvious that Jean wasn’t really listening, he just waited for Jean to talk.  It didn’t take too long for Jean to heave a sigh before finally getting around to what was bugging him.

 

“I think…” Jean began, twisting his hands in his lap, “that it’s time I try to go back to college.”  He flinched back ever so slightly, as he still did sometimes when he expressed an opinion that might receive backlash from the person he’d told.  While half of Connie wanted to immediately agree that it was time to go back, since Jean had decided it was, the other half didn’t want Jean to think that he had to do this.  

 

“If you think it’s time, then let me know any way I can help you,” Connie said slowly, trying to remember the process for applying to colleges from their high school days.  Would Jean have to apply as a transfer, or a new student?  “But Jean, you do know you don’t have to go to college,” he added, scooting a bit closer to untangle Jean’s hands, as they had started picking almost unconsciously at his cuticles while he’d spoken.  Even as his hands relaxed in Connie’s, Jean frowned and shook his head.

 

“I know that, but like...I gotta do it for myself, y’know?”  Jean said firmly, without flinching in the slightest, and Connie inwardly cheered.  Outwardly, he just nodded as he gently squeezed Jean’s hands, encouraging Jean to continue if he felt the need to.  Which he apparently did, as Jean’s hands tightened around Connie’s and he continued to babble.  “I mean, yeah, it’s been like four years since I tried last, and it’s gonna be difficult, but maybe just part time at the community college would work?  I don’t wanna be even more broke, but some classes might be nice to take…”  He trailed off once more, unconsciously rubbing circles into Connie’s hand with his thumb.  Connie nodded again, even though Jean was definitely not looking at him now.

 

“You can do it Jean, and even if you do fail a class or two-” (Jean flinched slightly at that) “-you still got a bunch of us here rooting for you,” Connie said soothingly.  He wasn’t sure what to expect, but Jean crawling suddenly into his lap definitely wasn’t it.  But regardless, Connie wrapped his arms around Jean and mumbled “I’ve always got your back, Jean, no matter what” into the back of his head.  They stayed like that for what could’ve been two minutes, or a century, and the entire time Connie hoped that Jean wasn’t paying attention to how fast his heart was beating.  When Jean finally slid out of his lap, Connie couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped, cutting off short as Jean’s face remained way too close (was that determination in his eyes, or worry?).

 

 

“Can I kiss you?” Jean asked, eyes widening comically when he realized he’d actually asked that out loud.  Before Jean could splutter out any apologies or take it back, Connie leaned forward and gently pressed their lips together.  It was quick, barely a kiss at all, but Connie felt Jean’s sharp intake of breath before he pulled back.  Jean grabbed at his arm before he could get too far away, the tiniest of whines escaping his throat, before leaning forward and kissed Connie more firmly.

 

Time had most definitely stopped, at least for Connie, as he let himself relax into a rhythm that had been forgotten for so long.  Even though Jean’s lips were drier than he remembered, they were still familiar, as if the years since the last time they kissed had been just hours instead.  Jean sighed against him, swiping his tongue against his lips.  Connie’s lips parted gladly, the smallest of moans being pulled out of him as he slipped into Jean’s lap.

 

By the time their lips parted once more, Connie was almost certain he was dreaming.  A quick pinch to his arm assured him he wasn’t, and he could’ve sworn he saw Jean pinch his own arm as well.  They sat in silence, Jean’s uncertainty and Connie’s caution keeping them in place.  Eventually though, it was Jean who finally broke it.

“Wanna...Go out sometime?  Like, on a date?”  He asked, his voice cracking very suddenly on the word ‘date’.  Connie couldn’t help but laugh, even as he nodded, almost smacking his head into Jean’s nose.  The two of them sat there, giggling, for hours, until Mama K finally collected them for dinner.  She had to hide her smile at seeing her son happy and holding Connie’s hand once more, matching grins on both of her boys’ faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all folks! My multichapter for JeanConnie week is finished...Now just gotta finish up the hell that is day 6...


End file.
